his paper garden of madness
by Grotesque.Alice
Summary: Wishes are deadly things. A single wish turned you from Elizabeth 3rd the cat to Elizabeth 3rd the human. But what did you sacrifice for this magical moment? [Jumin Han/Reader Rating will eventually increase to M]
1. Prologue

**His Paper Garden of Madness**

 **Prologue: Spring and You**

 _A wish?_

"Yes, a wish," said the man, his eyes alight with joy. With an unnecessary flourish he possessed, he perched on Master's bed without further contemplation and crossed his legs, giving you a wide smile. "Any wish in the world, I'll grant it for you."

His words made no sense to you. Not like Master's. Master always spoke calmly, word by word falling from his lips like a reverent prayer for you to understand. But this stranger—whose sharp fuchsia eyes bore into you like he saw past your façade—made little to no sense at all. You crane your head upwards to gaze at him, curious, for he seemed unperturbed with how he conversed with something like you as though it was a norm for humans.

Which begs the question, actually: Was he human?

"So tell me," the man began again, oblivious to the questions reflected in your eyes, letting a smirk grace his thin lips, "what will it be, _Elizabeth_?"

* * *

Master had a rough day at work today—no, he had been going through several rough days in a row. You know. Often times Master would overwork himself at his office and wind up home late, when the stars shone overhead and the skyscrapers in the skyline had long past switched off their lights. His fingers would loosen up his necktie, carefully draping it over the settee so that the maid would pick it up tomorrow, and with a movement too graceful to belong to a 26-year-old man, he'd stride over to the bed with his phone in his hands.

You'd seen this cycle for far too long to memorise the way his eyelashes dip over those pewter grey eyes and how a smile settled on his lips whenever he scrolled through something on the phone.

Other times, Master would return home earlier than expected, seemingly done with his workload for the day. Bespoke shoes safely shelved to the side, he stepped into the private expanse of his penthouse with a lighter bounce in his steps. He'd never fail to pick you up and deposit you in his lap as he combed his fingers through your fur— _ah_ , you relished in his touch whenever he scratched behind your ears and gently nuzzle under your jaw, eliciting little mewls and happy purrs for him to enjoy.

"Elizabeth 3rd," Master would say, a smile already on his lips, "you're so beautiful, so intelligent…"

His little compliments, his little gestures, his little sighs of satisfaction, they're everything you loved about Master. A kind man he is, truly a kind man, one whose magnanimity extended not only to you, but to everyone else. Those who deserved his affection and attention aren't many, but only a few, and you suspected they were the very reason why Master was able to go on this far in his life. Without their support, Master would've never made it this far.

Yet… lately, something made Master sad. Terribly, _terribly_ sad.

Night blankets the Seoul skyline, draping darkness over every cranny of his room. A brief outline of Master's resting figure could be seen behind the mysterious man who made himself at home in Master's penthouse, sitting on the edge of Master's very bed. From where you rested on the sofa, you could see the strange man's cotton blue hair curtaining his eyes, lighting the peculiar frenzy within those bright irises. How he actually got in through Master's very strict security system, you wouldn't know, but the one thing you knew was this: He was here to grant a wish. _Your_ wish.

Blinking once, you stole a glance at Master. He slept soundly tonight, nary a movement coming from him except for a light snoring sound. He must've been exhausted, you realised, from the day's troubles at his company. Finding yourself more than wary to protect him, you raised your head.

 _Who are you?_ You mewled softly, cocking your head to the side, ears curling curiously. _You don't smell very… human._

Which was the truth. Humans had a very distinct smell to them, emitting heat and sweat, while this man was the exact paradox of a human's existence. He smelled like… _nothing._ No perceivable warmth whatsoever. Your nose twitched as you tried to pick up even the faintest scents coming from him, albeit finding nothing. Master always smelled like something pleasant even with the odd things he spritzed on his suits every morning. On the days Master wore nothing to mask his scent, you luxuriated in his musk as you snuggled on his chest, pressing your nose against his nape.

Master smelled like love.

This stranger smelled like danger.

"You don't need to know about that for now." He chuckled under his breath like the very thought of exposing his identity to you would put his life in danger. Still, the mirth in his eyes hadn't faded away. The same cruel smile on his lips remained. "I'm only here to grant your wish… anything that you desire, it can be yours for a price."

Your tail swished from side to side as your ears perked up. _A price?_ You mewled again, gazing at the man with great scrutiny. _I don't need anything from you, stranger… Master is all I need._

Somehow, like your very words amused him, the intruder burst into laughter, loud enough to reverberate through Master's penthouse. Strangely, Master never woke up from the harsh sound. It was as though Master couldn't hear him at all, which unnerved your very core. The awful noise rattled your nerves and made your fur bristle, but you stood your ground and waited for him to finish his madness. This was no laughing matter; Master was truly the only person you needed, and if Master were to ever go away, then—

No. You couldn't bear to imagine it.

Master would never go away.

"There's no use lying to me, Elizabeth," he murmured your name almost as though he was making a mockery out of the very name that Master treasured. Uncrossing his legs, elbows on his knees, the man leant over to peer closer at you… letting the fuzzy glow of the tubular aquarium in Master's house highlight the frenzied flash in his eyes. "I can hear your distress. I know what you want. But… you just don't want to admit it."

 _No,_ you hissed, _you don't know anything about me. Master—_

"You're an intelligent cat," he surmised, tipping his head back, cleanly countering your words. "I know your Master knows about it too. But you haven't realised it yet. Your Master _needs_ you."

His words briefly ignited anger, anger that threatened to boil over into claws and hisses and scratches and angry red welts, but as soon as you wanted to pounce on him, you couldn't. Because… it was true. Master needed you. But… why would he need you when you were always here?

As though the mysterious man fathomed the sudden confusion clouding your thoughts, he gave a brief shrug and waved absently in the air. "He's going through a tough time… but what can you do for him? You're a cat, Elizabeth, a _cat_ ," he echoed in disdain, eyes narrowing into slits, "so other than licking his fingers and pawing his clothes, what else can you do to comfort him?"

You didn't want to hear the answer.

"Nothing."

 _No_ —

"Nothing, Elizabeth, _nothing,_ " he repeated the same words, letting them resonate hollowly in the ringing silence of Master's house. "In the end, you can't talk to him. You can't even offer words to console him during his moments of great need. You'll always be there for him, but you'll be useless. And at the very end, you'll be thrown away. Because you're not a human."

Such hurtful words filled with malice and hatred. What vendetta did he hold against you? He spat out each sentence and savoured the lingering lash of pain you suffered from his words, despite not betraying any emotion at all. Just for the sake of a single wish, he'd goad you to this extent? If Master were awake and listening to this conversation, he'd scoff and put this man right where he belonged but… Master was asleep, not even once stirring from his slumber.

 _Even if Master wishes to throw me away, it's his decision and not yours,_ you mewled, your tail flicking from side to side in a show of repressed annoyance. _Master knows that I—_

"Elizabeth 3rd…?"

You froze, faltering to a halt.

A sleepy drawl that belonged neither to the stranger nor you. A voice you were familiar with. Master's voice.

The rustling of sheets told you of his movements; Master was already halfway getting up from his bed, pushing his body off the mattress with an arm, a fluid motion that he habitually repeats every morning. Only, he didn't stand, choosing to sit upright on the bed, feet planted firmly on the ground. The stranger quirked his eyebrows in feigned surprise at Master's movements, his expression changing from derision into one of delight at the turn of events. He slipped off the bed and stood up, pocketing his hands just as easily.

"Elizabeth 3rd," Master repeated, his voice just a touch stronger this time around, as he cranes his neck over his shoulder to search for your presence. "… where are you, Elizabeth 3rd?"

 _Over here, Master,_ you answered with a quiet mewl, padding over towards his bed. Paying no mind to the observing intruder, you leapt onto Master's bed with the true grace of a cat before plodding to him, gently rubbing your head against his side. _I'm here now, Master, don't worry… I'm here._

Master's back was broad and warm. Warm, warm all over, just the way you remembered. Instinctively, you purred in pleasure as his hand easily snaked itself around your body and hoisted you into his lap. Over here, just draped over Master's thighs and basking in his warmth was almost enough to make you forget about the trespasser who lingered just a few meters away, watching in interest. _Almost._

"You were mewling rather loudly," Master remarked, a sleepy yawn escaping his lips whilst he continued petting your head. "Is something wrong? Were you lonely?"

No, of course you weren't lonely. It was just that Master wouldn't understand that you were talking to the trespasser and you hadn't meant to wake him up. Still… a niggling part of your mind reminded you of what he spoke just a scant second ago: You couldn't talk to Master. You owned no voice. You were just simply… Master's pet. Even with all the mewls in the world, you wouldn't be able to offer a single justification… or comfort for Master. With a tired meow, you nestled your head against Master's palm and purred as his finger began rubbing your ear.

Master obviously expected no response from you, other than the catlike norm of a meow or a purr. Lost in his thoughts, he repeated his motions, once, twice, thrice.

"Your Master is sad," the stranger repeated from behind, a lilting glee apparent in his voice. Your ears twitched at his words, tapping your tail sporadically on Master's thighs out of irritation, but it seemed as though Master couldn't acknowledge his presence. Or rather, Master couldn't see him at all. Which was why the man spoke so brazenly now. "See now, little one? You're just being a burden to your Master because you can't do anything for him when he's done _everything_ for you."

Not even once had Master ever spoken of you as a burden. If anything, you knew he adored you more than everything else he possessed. His medley of limousines, his Rolex watches, his tailored suits, everything he owned amounted to nothing if you weren't by his side. As Elizabeth 3rd, his pride and joy, you knew you held that much of power over him. Master cherished your every meow. And you, in turned, cherished every moment you spent with him. However… there was nothing you could do to ease his suffering.

He spent sleepless nights gently raking his fingers through your fluffy fur, mumbling bits and pieces of his memories he wished to share with you. All his troubles, his worries, his insecurities, Master chose to confide in you than anyone else. The weakest comfort you could offer was a sad mewl of acknowledgement, nosing his cheek and licking his jaw— _Master, please, cheer up and be strong_ —and a smile would cross his lips—"Elizabeth 3rd, you always understand me," he'd mutter, returning your affection with a brief kiss on your head. Because that was how it was. And there was no changing it.

Until now.

As Master continued petting your fur, you burrowed further into his lap and closed your eyes until he spoke up again.

"Elizabeth 3rd…" Master murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as though he was afraid of breaking the silence. "What happened during lunch today was something out of my hindsight."

Lunch. Master's relationship with his father was something akin to his pride, being able to hold a solid bond with someone he greatly respected. After returning from each meeting with his father, he'd hold a certain amount of contentment that only a familial relationship could fulfil. But today, Master seemed different. He turned in early for the night, tossing and turning on his bed until sleep finally consumed him wholly, and you sat on the sofa watching his fitful slumber.

Master seldom shared his thoughts with anyone else, careful to keep a lid on his emotions as the days turned to months, months turned to years, and years into decades. To hear this raw edge in Master's voice unsettled your nerves.

 _Master?_ You warily raised your head, mewling low. Pressing a paw against his torso, you looked upwards, taking in his sharp jawline illuminated by the dim aquarium glow, tracing the sorrow reflected in his eyes. _Master?_ You mewled again, pawing him gently this time, hoping to find a response. _Is something wrong?_

"Glam Choi's influence over my father is strong… something I shouldn't underestimate," Master mused, absentmindedly running his finger from your ear over the bridge of your nose. All the while, the stagnant silence permeated in the penthouse as the observing stranger made no further moves, seemingly waiting for Master to finish his words. "As usual, my father has been blinded by her incessant flattery. It's the same cycle over and over again, Elizabeth 3rd. This same vicious cycle of money-hungry women finding my father and wooing him over with their sweet words… it'll never end unless my father takes the first step."

Hushed silence fell.

Master absently continued stroking your fur.

Only the stranger seemed to find sick pleasure in this situation, reminding you of what could be yours.

"I know what you want, little one… you wish to be of some help to your beloved Master, am I right?"

 _No…_ you mewl this time, but the denial was but a fragile sound of a lie.

And the man saw through it, clear as glass. " _'Oh, if only I were a human, I'd be able to do so much more for Master,'_ am I _right_?"

Master's fingers weighed heavily over your head, your ears, your nose, a reminder of how hefty were the burdens he shouldered each day. A burden too heavy, he could share with no one other than you. You were his diary, his secret keeper, his beloved. His beloved Elizabeth 3rd.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Elizabeth." The man shook his head, blue bangs partially masking the demented glint in his eyes. "I've made many miracles happen before… from cats to rabbits to dolls, everything on Earth has a wish only I can listen to. And once your wish is granted, you'll realise how much you can do for him with your own two hands."

Hands. Not paws.

Doing something for Master was a dream that would never come true. You were a cat and he was a human. Doing something for him with your tiny paws and unintelligible meows wouldn't amount to anything solid enough for Master's sake. Somehow… a reasonable part of yourself knew the stranger was right. He'd been right all along. Gradually, your eyes slipped close, almost as though you were accepting the inevitable defeat coming for you.

It didn't surprise Master at all. "Getting sleepy, Elizabeth 3rd? Then maybe we should both continue resting. It won't be good for you to get insufficient sleep."

Ah, this was the part you loved the most. Master's **firm** grasp habitually manoeuvred him into a resting position on the bed once more, lying on his back. And with a gentleness that he only reserved for you, because you were his and only his, because you were his prized possession, because you were his treasured pet, he carefully lowers you on his chest, letting you rest there for the night. It wasn't uncomfortable at all. It just felt… _right_. Just lying curled up on Master's chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing lull you to sleep, soaking in his comforting warmth.

And just _feeling_ him.

"Sleep well, princess," said Master, his voice thickly swathed with drowsiness. "Good night, may you rest well…"

The lasts of your thoughts were a hazy jumble of wishes, buried wishes finally being unearthed for the first time.

* * *

When he was a child, his mother would press him into her side, cradling him close. "Jumin," she said, "be careful not to get a cold." He remembered the way she'd tuck his chin right in the crook of her arm, gently holding him as the clock ticks away seconds, minutes, and eventually hours into the night. He couldn't recall when he fell asleep because the morning after was always the same; a cold bed, devoid of any human warmth from the night before, and a maid knocking persistently on the door, asking him to wake up.

It'd been many years since he woke up warm all over with a weight on his chest and a hand coiled around his.

Sunlight sliced through the Seoul skyscrapers and fell in fragments over his face. There was still biting coldness over his feet thanks to the centralized AC in his penthouse, but a spot of concentrated warmth over his torso made him incredibly forgiving towards the discomfort he suffered. Heavy, yes, a little hard for him to breathe, yes again, but it had been so long since he was this... content with waking up at ungodly hours in the morning.

It must've been Elizabeth 3rd, he surmised, vaguely recalling how he placed her on his chest last night as the sandman lulled them to sleep.

His hand automatically shot out to give her a morning petting, yet, instead of meeting sun-warmed fur and a wet nose, he found himself running his fingers through silken straight hair belonging on a very hard, _very_ human skull.

Cracking an eye open, Jumin stared at a spot of whiteness obscuring his vision. Hair. Hair. And _lots_ of hair, trailing over his chest, his arm, tousled all over his sheets. Unless he was dreaming, he was rather certain it was Elizabeth he placed on the exact same spot and certainly not a nightmare manifesting in the shape of Zen. Jumin stared at the head for a few seconds, calculating the possibility of his eyes playing tricks on him. Which, after a few more seconds of contemplation, he found utterly impossible and downright ridiculous.

Affixed to a spot and unable to move, he gazed at the visible features of the strange person lying on top of him. Aside from fine white hair draping over him like a blanket, he caught a hint of bare shoulder exposed for him to stare. Decidedly curious, his dark eyes followed the trail of white hair and bare shoulder... only to find them attached to a curved spine, bare back, and a hardly clothed bottom, whose pale skin and supple rosiness betrayed the gender. A woman's. And definitely not a nightmarish Zen.

Was this a wet dream?

No, that can't be it.

It had been too long since he last experienced something as juvenile as that, not to mention how realistic this turned out to be. Her fingers were tangled in his over the bed, soft and sticky after being pressed together for so long, and when he gave an experimental twitch to his fingers, she responded with a curl of her own. How... odd. How… _familiar._

Jumin supposed he spent too long looking for answers when there was none to be found if he stayed silent like this. With his free hand, he gave her an experimental shake on the shoulder.

"Wake up."

No response. Only a sleepy mumble and a deeper burrowing of her head on his chest.

Furrowing his brows, Jumin tried again. "Wake up."

This time, he succeeded in provoking a response, albeit it comes with another sleepy mumble and a soft shake of her head. Still, she stirred from her slumber and that was all he needs to know that this wasn't a dream. It was anything but a dream when she gave a light stretch, throatily moaning her contentment, before tossing around blearily to meet his gaze. One part of Jumin's mind was ready to chew her out for breaking into his penthouse and having the audacity to even share the same bed with him like some harlot from the streets. But the moment she fluttered her white lashes, a stray tongue wetting her lips, the questions in Jumin's mouth died in his throat.

Blue eyes.

Eyes so blue, so familiar, as though he spent an eternity gazing into those glassy orbs and watching them open and close, open and close, open and close each day. The sunlight mirrored in her eyes glistened clear, reflecting the morning skies dotted with clusters of clouds. He had seen them before.

Those very blue eyes belonged to his cat, and certainly not on this woman. Yet his denials couldn't come fast enough to counter the words she utter.

"Good morning, Master..."

* * *

 **Notes:**

For those of you who've played Dandelion and Nameless, you should know who the stranger is. :) There's no telling what he's up to this time, because he'll definitely make a comeback. And despite the Reader being 'Elizabeth 3rd', it isn't quite Elizabeth... ;D But it's too early for spoilers now.

This is an experimental fic taking place in Jumin's story from day 3 onwards, delving into Jumin's psyche and how he shares a bond with Elizabeth. Somehow to me, Elizabeth seemed like a really intelligent cat despite being mischievous (like all cats are). So this piece of fanfiction is probably going to be deep, dealing with Jumin's problems… (but hey, there'll be smut too lol who can say no to smut). Thanks for reading and if you like how it went, feel free to drop a review!

 **Next time on His Paper Garden of Madness:**

 _He paused. Abruptly, the hand caressing behind your ear disappeared, only to reappear around your throat. His fingers fluttered up the column of your neck, tracing a delicate trail past your bobbing throat, stopping under your chin. Master's expert touch invited yet another breathy sound past your lips, something that made him pause for a fraction of second, before he began running his fingers under your chin, resting his thumb on your bottom lip._


	2. Stage 1: Lovesickness

**His Paper Garden of Madness  
Stage 1 | Lovesickness**

All living beings crave love. The need to love and to be loved, to want and to be wanted. Master had never been a man of restraint when it comes to showing how much he loved you, finding fastening glistening stones around your throat as a brand of his love. The lines between a human and a cat were blurred beyond belief, putting your four-legged majesty on a pedestal above the rest in Master's eyes. To him, you were a woman finer than any female out there, a woman who understood and accepted his faults with arms wide open, always listening to his problems, always with a word of love or two on your lips.

You were Elizabeth 3rd, his treasure.

You loved him.

But now, you weren't so sure if he loved you too.

From all the years you spent with Master, a fluff of whiteness trotting on teeny paws and holding your tail straight, you'd never witnessed a quiet fury unfurling in his eyes. Stormy grey orbs darkened to a fault where you thought it might crack and shatter into pieces if he laid his eyes on you any longer.

For the first time ever, you couldn't understand him.

"Who are you?" he hissed, a venomous threat implicit in his words. Master had never spoken to you in such a tone before, as it was a tone he reserved only for those deserving his wrath. To hear him address you as though you were lower than him sent little trembles up your back. Dissatisfied with your lack of verbal answer, Master narrowed his eyes. "You'll either tell me who you are, or I'll be calling in my security. Now, who are _you?_ "

A squeak bubbled through your panic. "I—"

—wait, how did you say that…?

You were positive you heard something. It was a word. An intelligible word. Coming out from your mouth. Apparently, Master heard it too, loud and clear. But how? Wasn't he supposed to look at you with those eyes of his, a laugh or a smile on his lips at your little meaningless comfort before moving on? How could this be?

Tearing your eyes away from him, you scanned the entirety of Master's penthouse, trying to find something, _anything_ that would help you. There was Master's sofa, a place you loved to curl up on as the clock marched on, waiting for Master's return. There was a carpet with traces of your white hair on it, something you loved to lie on as you rubbed your back all over it. There was a tubular aquarium with various wriggly-tailed fishes darting between straggly corals.

And then there was a reflection on it, a foggy outline of a woman sitting on Master's bed with her legs splayed on each side. A woman of pale limbs and hair, hair, just long white hair spread all over Master's hands and thighs. Her eyes were the colour of a midday sky that burned the brightest, a clear and translucent light giving life to the ashen whiteness of her overall pallor.

Those eyes looked at you.

 _She_ looked at you.

And you looked at her, stricken.

Your fingers twitched. Hers did too. You were sure your lips parted in disbelief, a hearty exhale. Hers did too. Your hand trembled when you reached out towards the woman; she, too, reached out for you, her eyebrows knitted in anguish and her lips parting open and the distress in her eyes—

A hand grabbed your wrist before your fingers brushed against the cool glass, encasing you tight. It was a grab meant to restraint, unlike Master's previous touches. Turning away from the murky reflection on the tank, you caught Master's dangerously darkened eyes and shook your head.

"Master, p-please," you pleaded, a crack in your voice that betrayed the hint of fear within you, "listen to me, M-Master… I—I'm Elizabeth 3rd."

It was a hearty confession meant to set you free from worries, so that Master would cradle you within his embrace once more, petting your head and nuzzling your cheek. But the incredulity was still there on Master's face, firmly set in stone. Master was a man who made rational decisions within a flash, whether it was for his own sake or for his company's wellbeing. This decision, too, was formed out of rationality, a realistic choice for his safety. You couldn't blame him for the distrust thickening between you two—it didn't make any sense and nothing felt real except for Master's warmth emanating from his skin on yours, but you desperately _yearned_ for his trust.

It didn't feel so nice being placed at the short end of the stick when you were always his beloved, always his trusted Elizabeth 3rd.

In a glance, Master took in your appearance from head to toe. A brief, calculating look, as it was something you'd seen many times before. He was making his next decision now, whether he'd throw you out or hear you out. Everything depended on this.

 _Elizabeth 3_ _rd_ _… you're always so intelligent, so beautiful,_ he used to say.

Always intelligent. Always beautiful.

Always his Elizabeth 3rd.

Always _his_.

"Master, please believe me," you tried again, despite the trembles threatening to waver your voice into nothingness. "I'm Elizabeth 3rd… I'm _your_ Elizabeth 3rd. I—"

"And you expect me to believe that a cat can suddenly morph into a human?" he retorted with an arrogant quirk of his brow. "That's ridiculous. I don't believe in any unscientific discovery, unless you can provide any proof." Master lowered his hand, yet he hadn't released his firm grip around your wrist. He still didn't believe you. "Now, if you're done spewing nonsense, I'd like to call in the security to have you arrested on trespassing. I'm sure you'll enjoy your time in jail."

Jail? Your brows furrowed. What was a jail? The unfamiliar term Master coined in a warning tone only brought in images of hostility, a place just as cold and unwelcoming and unfamiliar, a lonely place without Master. Whatever a jail was, it wasn't home. A place was never a home without Master.

Master's hand was already reaching for his phone on the bedside, but you swiftly obstructed his path by pressing down on his wrist as he did with yours.

"Please—" you whispered, wrenching your eyes shut as an unfamiliar warmth threatened to fall over your cheeks. Pain, sorrow, anguish, devastation, despair, hopelessness—everything bubbled within you—within this frantically beating _thing_ inside you, threatening to boil over at the thought of Master just _abandoning_ you even though he loved yo— "Please, Master, I'm begging you, please, believe in me—I'm Elizabeth 3rd, I don't know what happened but please listen—"

Oh. Oh _no._ Something warm and wet cascaded down your cheeks, dripping off your chin and falling in rivulets over your quivering thighs. This suffocating sensation gripped your throat and choked your words into fits and sobs, rendering you wordless.

For a split second, Master's unyielding grasp around your wrist loosened.

You braved yourself to open your eyes, to look at Master and hope he'll believe in you, but it was getting harder and harder and _harder_ to see with your vision getting blurrier and more wet things were trickling down your cheeks and raining on your thighs, with your words coming out in garbled sobs and sniffles.

And Master… Master was just staring at you, his eyes cloudy, his face devoid of emotions. A blank slate. There was an unforgiving glint outlining the stern set of his lips, his jaw clenched tight. He probably thought you were trying to deceive him by using someone he treasured against himself, but there were also vague beginnings of something coming together in his eyes. An unnamed emotion you couldn't put your paw on it.

Because you had never seen it before on Master.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you evened out the lasts of your trembles. "I—My name is Elizabeth 3rd," you introduced yourself shakily for the umpteenth time, stifling another sob. "I… I am yours, Master. I've been yours ever since Rika gave me to you. Sometimes when you don't come home, Master, I get unbearably sad… but I'll wait for you on the sofa right there until you return."

Your eyes lingered on the smooth leather of the sofa you loved, gazing at the exact same spot you rolled around as you counted each _tick_ and _tock_ until Master pulled you into his embrace again.

Something in Master's eyes flickered.

And his grip around your wrist tightened by just a little bit.

Just a little.

That was all the encouragement you needed to push on. "Yesterday, you had lunch with your father… and you were so tired, but you told me about your father and how someone was in… in—infulencing him—"

"Influencing him," Master rectified with a curt nod, wary eyes watching your every move.

"—influencing him," you repeated after him, carefully treading on those difficult words that Master recited the night before. "And you said something about a vicious cycle of money-hungry women. But… but you said these things won't end if Master's father doesn't take the first step. And if he doesn't take the first step, then—"

Master closed his eyes. "Stop."

And you did. Words seized in your throat, almost tumbling over your lips, yet you held on to them because Master said stop and you were his _and_ if he wanted you to stop, then you would. Because you were his.

The moment he opened his eyes again, lengthy lashes lifting to reveal those grey eyes you adored, something _changed._ The tension in the air dissipated into nothingness. The harsh lines on his face mellowed out into an expression you could finally identify as relief. It was as though rain finally fell on a desert, giving life to those who yearned for salvation once more. And for you, it was more than enough when Master released his hold on your wrist and chose to cradle your cheek.

Warm.

It was so warm.

And it felt like home.

Master loved to cradle your head, running his thumb over the bridge of your nose to make you purr in delight. But this time, things were different. His thumb wiped away the strangely wet things falling from your eyes, a gesture that was a stark change from how things were before. It was probably because you were no longer a cat. You now possessed limbs that were similar to Master's. Hands. Feet. Legs. Fingers.

Lips.

Lips that Master was tracing with his thumb, wetting them with the mark of your sorrow. It tasted strange… almost salty as your tongue darted out to follow his path. Yet, Master never uttered a word other than evaluating your response with his eyes, mapping how your head nuzzled into his broad palm, rubbing fondly against it. It felt good to be touched again, _feeling_ him. You wanted to purr in delight when his fingers sought the place behind your ear, gingerly brushing against them, but you couldn't.

All you managed were breathy sounds from your throat, a sound that elicited a strange look from Master.

But he didn't say a word about it.

Instead, he brushed aside your long hair to expose your ear and repeated the action, drawing forth more and more sounds. Too lost in the familiar comfort he gave you, your eyes fell shut as you enjoyed his ministrations, basking in his attention, his love. His everything.

"It's strange…" you heard Master murmur, just a touch above a whisper, "I… can't quite believe this is happening. A logical side of my brain denies this simply because there're no logical explanations to support this phenomenon. Yet a rational side of my brain says that it's you… your white hair, your blue eyes, your words, and your reaction when I touch you—everything about you is Elizabeth 3rd."

A stretch of silence fell between his sentences, not that you noticed how awkward it was when Master kept stroking your ear and you kept nuzzling into his palm, seeking more and more of his touches.

After a moment's contemplation, he began again, a little louder this time. "But now, I can confidently say that you are indeed my Elizabeth 3rd. You know too much about me, about the things that I never told anyone. Even if you were an intruder who studied every detail of my life down to a scratch, they'd never be able to replicate how much you love being touched here…"

He paused. Abruptly, the hand caressing behind your ear disappeared, only to reappear around your throat. His fingers fluttered up the column of your neck, tracing a delicate trail past your bobbing throat, stopping under your chin. Master's expert touch invited yet another breathy sound past your lips, something that made him pause for a fraction of second, before he began running his fingers under your chin, resting his thumb on your bottom lip.

"And here as well…" he murmured, quiet. "Your reactions are purely Elizabeth 3rd if she were a human…"

If you were a human.

In which you were now.

The stranger from yesterday, whose electric pink eyes and pale blue hair remained in your memory, made all of this possible. For you to touch, to kiss, and to love Master. To help him. To be there for him.

And now, you rebirthed anew.

* * *

Perhaps it was a moment of weakness that drove Jumin to commit his first mistake, which could be his last. How easily he believed your words and your actions, even though they might be scripted for his downfall. But his logical faculties were faulty from a start; anything and everything for his Elizabeth 3rd, no matter how silly it seemed to others. From diamond-encrusted collars to mulberry silk beddings just for you to lay on, to the finest gourmet chef designing a well-balanced diet for your consumption, a rigid schedule detailing what and when you should be fed, everything he did was for your sake.

And oh, the results spoke for themselves, how it showed on the radiant glow of your skin as the sunlight fell in streaks over your splayed limbs.

Everything about his Elizabeth—about you—everything was aesthetically pleasing to his eyes. The smooth sheen of your frigid white hair cascading over your shoulders, lean arms, and fleshy thighs lent an unearthly purity to your image. Something so pure, untouched, like an unblemished porcelain. The sapphires of your irises were an untainted blue, blue of the seas and the skies, like tumbling through the clouds into an endless fall, shadowed by thick white lashes that obscured your delicate gaze every now and then.

Every once in a while, Jumin caught himself observing how your lips would part to release a satisfied moan when he repeated his motions just the right way you loved. An unintentional sound, maybe akin to a purr that you couldn't emulate now that you were a human. But everything else about you was faultless, every action a habitual movement that even the best actress couldn't mimic.

Not that he could see why anyone would send a human over to impersonate a cat, Jumin noted, because the notion was implausible from the start. Nobody could get past the throngs of bodyguard stationed outside his penthouse, securing the perimeters just for his safety. And certainly nobody could break through the windows unless they possessed superhuman powers.

The possibilities were endless, but the answer was clear. You were Elizabeth 3rd, and there was no denying your nature of a cat. Especially when he took into consideration how unashamed you were of your nudity, as though you weren't aware of the ravishing image you presented to any man.

From the moment you woke up, you made no gesture to cover yourself up. A cat's outfit was only its fur, so it made sense why you found no desire to pull his blankets up your chest to cover your bared breasts. As much as Jumin diverted his gaze to somewhere decent, he's seen the dusky pinks of your nipples whenever your hair failed to provide the sufficient cover. With how your thighs were parted, legs splayed on each side of your body, Jumin felt as though he didn't need to look lower to confirm his suspicion.

Having a naked cat-woman on his bed was the least of his problems, he supposed. For starters, it was still morning and he needed to go to work… but his hands immediately found themselves reaching out for his phone, keying in the speed dial for his assistant, and waiting for her to answer the call.

Within two rings, Assistant Kang's voice came through. _"Good morning, Mr. Han."_

It was curt. It required no further explanation. And he knew he wanted this. "Cancel all of my plans for today. Something urgent came up."

" _Something urgent?"_ she echoed, a notch of concern evident in her voice as he picked up sounds of her paperwork getting thrown off to the side. _"Are you all right, Mr. Han?"_

"I'm fine." He cleared his throat, his gaze darting over to catch your eyes. There was a quizzical quality with how you observed him, eyes wide, lips parted in curiosity, and he immediately wondered if you knew what he was doing. "Just cancel all meetings today. That's all."

Without hearing her chastising reply, Jumin pressed the red button on his phone and watched in satisfaction as the screen darkened, effectively putting a stop to her reproaches. Assistant Kang would know about this sooner or later when the time was right, and even if she didn't know of your existence as a human forevermore, he doubted it would be much of a change.

The only thing that should matter to you was him, and that's _that_. You didn't need to know anyone else. Not as a human.

Dropping his phone on the mattress, Jumin turned towards you once more, taking in how patiently you were waiting for him. It was… _strange_ how familiar this seemed, yet entirely uncanny in its truth. A cat metamorphosing into a human, blue eyes staring into his grey ones, hands and certainly not paws just scrabbling for his once again, fingers tangling together on the sheets. Everything was similar in this dissimilar situation.

"First things first, we need to eat breakfast," he said after gathering his thoughts, languidly brushing his thumb over the smooth skin of your hand. "And afterwards, I'd like to find something for you to wear. You need to have clothes fit for a princess. After that, I'll call in some men to refurbish that room over there to be yours, if you'd like. You need to have a space you can call your own, after all."

Somehow, your hands over his tightened after hearing that.

"A space of my own?" you echoed.

 _Ah,_ no matter how many times he heard your voice, it still sounded like a dream. A soft, whisper-like sound, light and clear. Just like how you used to mewl at his every response, now, you spoke words to him. Intelligible words that he actually understood as a human being, and no longer a vacant stare with a desolate meow. Now he couldn't get enough of the _pretty_ sounds falling from your _pretty_ lips.

"Yes, your very own room." Jumin nodded. "Of course, it'll be filled with everything that you love. You know the chief of security, right? If you need anything, request it from him, be it clothes, shoes, or anything else you desire. You'll have a closet of your own, a comfortable bed, and you can sleep in there all you want."

The luxuries he offered would've blinded any other woman with happiness, unspoken promises of wealth and unlimited expenses all shouldered under his name. Yet, strangely, he caught a fleeting sadness crossing your eyes. Something must've gone wrong somewhere with what he said. He rewound the words in his head, mulling over each alphabet and its context, until a light brush of your fingers brought him back to reality.

Jumin watched as your eyes turned away from him, gazing fondly at the sofa close to his bed.

"Master…" you said, lowering your head. "Do you see that sofa over there? I like that sofa. It's where I see you when you leave for work, and it's also where I greet you when you come back home. And…" you trailed off, looking at him once more, "… it's where I sleep at night because I can see you from here."

The beginnings of something bloomed somewhere deep inside him. Maybe it was his lungs. How he breathed in shallowly upon hearing your words. Or maybe it was his mind. How it ran rampant as it dug its way through his thoughts and took root. Or maybe it was his heart. Just beating a little louder than before.

"So please, Master, let me stay close to you. I don't need my own bed." You shook your head, sending stray locks of hair over your ears and brushing against your cheek. "I can continue sleeping on the sofa just fine if it meant I can stay here together with you."

"But you're no longer a cat," Jumin reminded you with a firm look, carefully seeking answers from your glassy blue eyes. "Sleeping on the sofa won't be as comfortable as before. If it makes you happy, then you can have my bed. You may sleep here every night, Elizabeth 3rd."

He never knew you were capable of frowning. And he hated that wretched expression on your face, as though his words caused you more grief than happiness.

"But Master, if I sleep here, then where will you sleep?"

A fine question indeed. Elizabeth 3rd was always an intelligent and beautiful cat. And now, Elizabeth 3rd was an intelligent and beautiful woman.

"I doubt I can get much sleep," he admitted with a wry smile. Reaching out, his fingers wound through your tresses and tucked them right behind your ear, giving you a little scratch while he was at it. Just almost instinctively, your eyes fell close as you leant into his touch with an airy sigh. "So you can rest here while I watch over you. It'll be fine."

Even with your eyes shut, lost in the delights only a cat could understand, your decision didn't waver. "But Master," you murmured breathily, nuzzling into his palm, "can't you… can't you sleep with me?"

He almost stopped his ministrations at your suggestion. _Almost._ But you were a cat before, oblivious to the innuendoes humans coined out of the term. Your innocence couldn't be faulted. Someone so pure and so innocent should be kept away from the taints of the world. Away where nobody else could lay their stained hands on you.

And the safest place for you was here, right by his side.

"If that is what you desire, then I won't deny your wish," Jumin whispered, his eyes half-lidded as he gazed at your expression. "We'll spend our nights right here, together."

 _Together_ was never in his dictionary before. _Together_ meant doing an activity with someone else. It was always him and him alone, and the prospect of performing an activity with another person never caught his interest. But _together_ with you was something else, even if it was just sleeping. Being together with you meant that he never wanted to be apart again.

You were Elizabeth 3rd.

Not just a pretty cat with a delightful meow.

You were a woman.

His woman.

* * *

 **Next time on His Paper Garden of Madness:**

 _Striding over in three quick successions, Jumin placed himself between your legs and wrapped his hands on each side of your body. Your girlish ribcage under his fingertips felt particularly small, the ridges of human bones pressing against him. If he pressed hard enough, he could count each bone and the gaps in the between, memorising the way your breath hitched and how your knees dug into his sides, fleshy thighs obscured by his shirt… ah, if he thought about this any longer, strange thoughts would consume his conscience._

 **Notes:**  
*squints at the jumin hell*

… too late.

Thanks for the reviews, favs and alerts! This story will continue its update next week~ ;D

 **P/S:** _Posting on this website keeps unintentionally messing up the formatting so do feel free to head over to my profile page, where I posted up a link to my AO3 account. The formatting there is tons better with less spacing errors (that this website loves to swallow up) :D_


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